


'til the gravity's too much

by irishmizzy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 13:18:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1227826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishmizzy/pseuds/irishmizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis was glad they’d decided on this, heading home instead of being stuck hobnobbing at some fancy after-party. Brilliant plan. Ten points to each of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'til the gravity's too much

Louis hadn’t felt truly pissed until he was in the back of the car, and maybe it was the sudden quiet or the burst of cold air, but it hit him like a tonne of bricks. Eleanor caught his hand, threading their fingers together; he could feel it when she chuckled, they were pressed so close together. He was glad they’d decided on this, heading home instead of being stuck hobnobbing at some fancy after-party. Brilliant plan. Ten points to each of them.

“Alright?” she asked. He could tell by the way her mouth quirked up that she was trying not to laugh, that she was a bit drunk too. He nodded and twisted a bit in his seat so he could kiss her properly. It’d been a long and mostly boring show and knowing she was there but not _there_ had been -- well, it’d sucked, but she was here now and so was he and --

“Oi.”

Louis winced when Zayn elbowed him in the back but didn’t turn around.

“Did you need something, Zayn?” He tried to sound annoyed but knew it was mostly breathless. He dragged his thumb under the curve of El’s lip, wiping away the smear of gloss. He leaned back in and Zayn sighed loudly. 

“Fuck’s sake, Lou.” He got his fist in the back of Louis’ jacket somehow and used that to yank him backwards while Eleanor laughed. Traitor.

“Jealousy is unbecoming, Zayn,” Louis said, elbowing him in the side. Zayn rolled his eyes and Eleanor laughed harder and Louis leaned back in his seat, felt the city rushing by him when he closed his eyes. There was something prickling under his skin, alcohol and the high from their awards and something else, something he couldn’t quite place. 

Whatever it was, he never wanted it to disappear.

**

“I thought we’d agreed,” Louis said, passing the spliff to Eleanor and going up on his knees to make the long trek across the carpet to where Zayn was sprawled, “that you were Velma.”

“No one agreed to that,” Zayn said, eyes still closed. He didn’t react to Louis kneeling over him but he did look up when Louis hooked his fingers into Zayn’s scarf. It was mostly loose now, twisted all around his neck. 

“We did so.”

“You saying it isn’t the same as us agreeing.” Louis could feel it when Zayn swallowed, the way his throat pushed against Louis’ fingers. Zayn held his hand out to Eleanor and Louis blinked. Had she always been that close? It’d felt a lot farther when he’d crawled over. 

El scratched the side of his head gently, like she knew he was having a hard time with it. He leaned into it, couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped. Zayn knocked his knuckles against Louis’ knee, his rings sharp. He was still mostly dressed, had only hung up his jacket and rolled up his sleeves before he was digging out his stash. Technically Louis was still dressed up too, but without his jacket he looked more like he matched Eleanor, in the track bottoms and vest she’d nicked from Perrie’s closet.

“Can’t be comfortable,” Louis said, fingers playing at the hem of Zayn’s shirt before he took the spliff from him. 

“‘m fine,” Zayn said as Louis inhaled. El scooted closer, until her knees were touching Louis’ thigh, and Louis leaned in, closing the distance so he could breathe the smoke into her mouth. He didn’t pull away, let his lips linger against hers, and sure, it made for a shitty shotgun, the kind they were always on Niall about for being wasteful, but there wasn’t anyone else here and it’d been a long night so Louis didn’t much care. There was a humming under his skin and El still tasted faintly of the vodka cranberries she’d had at the show. 

He was distantly aware of Zayn taking the spiff back. They were all three pressed close enough that Louis could feel the way Zayn’s ribs expanded when he inhaled. 

Louis pulled away from Eleanor just far enough to say, “Cheater.” El laughed.

“Sorry,” Zayn said, not sounding it in the least, not even when Louis pinched him. “Wasn’t even you that got jumped.” He knocked Louis’ hand away and turned his head to smile at Eleanor, a full grin that made Louis’ insides clench with how much he’d missed these lads. Missed Zayn. They’d been apart for so long; it hadn’t felt like it until tonight, until they were all back together and Louis realized what had been absent. 

“Sorry, El. Make it up to you?” Zayn offered and Louis was about to protest because Zayn was lifting the spliff to his lips and that just meant he was skipping everyone double and that was not on, but El was gathering her hair to one side and leaning in, meeting Zayn halfway, and Louis kind of forgot everything he was about to say. 

It was like watching the earth tip sideways, like that thing where they show you a map of the world only the countries are correctly proportioned and Greenland isn’t the same size as Africa, only this was way worse because Louis could hear the small sound Eleanor was making in the back of her throat and he recognized that sound, knew it far too well. His pulse kicked up, double time, and for a second he felt frozen, like his brain and his body were on entirely different planes.

“Alright,” he said, snapping out of it, sliding his hand along Eleanor’s calf. He was aiming for annoyed but knew he sounded mostly breathless. When she sat up, El’s eyes were bright. So were Zayn’s. All Louis could think of was their van in Australia, how much time they’d spent in it, just him and Zayn and then, after Eleanor’d come to visit, all three of them. He’d tried not to think of it that much, not since.

It was Zayn who laughed first, his eyes going all squinty, all his teeth showing, and then El was laughing too, curling in on herself, her hair falling so Louis couldn’t see either of them. 

“Now who’s jealous?” 

Louis punched Zayn’s thigh, not quite hard enough for a dead leg, just hard enough for Zayn to curl up, still laughing. Hard enough that he went lax and Louis could steal back the spliff, had enough time to take a hit and throw a leg over both of Zayn’s. 

“My turn.” Louis patted Zayn’s stomach, trying to get his attention, and then fitted his mouth against Zayn’s, muffling the surprised, pleased sound Zayn made as he breathed in the smoke, his hands curling in Louis’ shirt, pulling him closer. He slipped one of his palms under the hem, slid it up along Louis’ spine, skin to skin, and then Eleanor’s hand was sliding up next to his and Louis couldn’t help the noise he made, pulled deep from his chest. He felt like he was burning up from the inside out.

“Fuck.” He pulled back, let his forehead rest against Zayn’s while they both tried to catch their breath. Zayn laughed, more a huff of breath than anything, and Louis pressed their mouths together once more before he sat up. 

El’d finished off the weed, nicked it right from Louis’ fingers while he was otherwise occupied; Louis hummed, disappointed, when he realized, but let it go when Eleanor reached for him, getting enough of her fingers in Louis’ shirt that she could pull him off Zayn and on top of her. It was easy to get lost in that, the comforting familiarity of her mouth, her skin, the lazy patterns she traced on the small of his back. The twitch of her hips as she tried to urge him ever closer. Zayn’s mouth on his neck was an added bonus, he figured, just familiar enough that Louis could handle it, even though the scrape of Zayn’s teeth sort of made him want to fly out of his skin.

He had to break away from Eleanor’s mouth to catch his breath, buried his face in her neck to breathe in the scent of her perfume. He heard the slick sounds of Eleanor and Zayn kissing, felt Zayn’s skinny arm pressing into his back, Zayn’s elbow digging into his side, and everything was so much. Louis felt unbearably drunk all of a sudden, like the weed and the liquor and everything was catching up to him, knocking him off his axis, sending his world spinning. He sat up fully, pushing his palms under Eleanor’s top until they were curved around her ribs, grounding him. 

Zayn noticed first, probably because Louis sitting up knocked his arm away. “Alright, Lou?” His mouth was red, kiss-swollen. So was Eleanor’s, Louis noticed, and that sent him spiraling again until she touched his chest gently, sliding her hand all the way down his torso to his hip. 

“Babe?” She squeezed his hip, eyes wide and bright and just a bit red. It only made them brighter, he realized. Made the flush in her cheeks more noticeable.

“Are we --” he started and then couldn’t figure out how to finish it, not with the two of them blinking up at him, their heads tipped together, all dark hair and eyelashes. It was deja vu and for a moment Louis’ brain stalled, stuck trying to figure out where they were, how long they’d been here. What time it was. If the light shining was from the lamps in the next room or streetlights from outside. Eleanor squeezed his hip again, tighter this time, and Louis coughed, asked, “Are we --” and got stuck on it all over again.

“Kind of ruins it if you ask, yeah?” Zayn snorted, turning his face so his nose pressed into Eleanor’s cheek, and Louis was grateful for it, the way Zayn waited for Louis to say, “Shut up,” before Zayn cupped El’s face, turning her toward him and kissing her again, pushing his tongue into her mouth, groaning in a way that had Louis going red all across his chest.

Zayn smirked like he knew, which he probably did. Still. 

“Shut up,” Louis said again, digging his fingertips into Zayn’s side, rucking up Zayn’s top to pinch his nipple. Zayn gasped, his hips jerking, so Louis did it again while he slid his hand under El’s shirt to do the same to her. He liked it, watching them both squirm, the way El’s hips moved under the weight of his body.

“Lou,” she whined, pulling away from Zayn just enough to talk. “C’mon. Don’t --”

“Don’t what?” Louis mouthed at her nipple, grinned when her voice cracked. He kissed his way down her stomach, stopping only at the waistband of her pants. He hooked his fingers in the elastic and waited. “Eleanor?”

She closed her eyes like she was trying to compose herself. He could see the frantic rise and fall of her chest and wondered if Zayn was breathing just as hard. If either of them could tell how hard his heart was hammering in his chest. It wasn’t new, but that didn’t mean it didn’t feel overwhelming every time. He dropped a kiss on Eleanor’s stomach and she reached down, hand flailing a bit before it landed on the back of his neck. 

“God, Louis,” she said, nails digging in, and that was all Louis needed before he was pushing her pants down, leaning back so she could kick them away before he settled between her legs. “Fuck,” she breathed out at the first touch of his tongue. Her following moan was muffled. Zayn, Louis supposed, too focused to check. This was easy. Not sobering, but it was something Louis knew, a solid ground to root himself to. Eleanor’s hand in his hair, fingers clenching when he got it just right.

Only -- something was off, and Louis couldn’t figure it out. Eleanor seemed distracted, her breathy sighs coming fewer and farther between, like she’d get close and then lose it. Louis kissed the crease of her hip before lifting his head to check and --

“Christ, Malik, haven’t you ever heard of ladies first?”

“Fuck off, Lou,” Zayn groaned, the words all drawn out like he was near death. Louis’d heard that tone of voice before. He grinned before biting at the thin skin stretched over Zayn’s hipbone, near the muzzle of his gun tattoo. Zayn’s hips bucked wildly and Louis turned his face into El’s stomach to keep from laughing, ended up chuckling anyway when Eleanor twitched and made an involuntary pleading noise. 

“Seriously,” Louis caught Eleanor’s wrist, let her wank Zayn for a few more strokes before he eased her off, “can’t have you cheating us out of everything all night.” 

“Us?” Zayn’s voice nearly cracked as he peered out from under the crook of his elbow to glare at Louis. 

“El,” Louis amended agreeably and pinched Zayn’s hip. Zayn made a terribly annoyed noise, thrusting his hips up into nothing, and Louis ducked back down, laughed against Eleanor, delighting in the way she twitched, her hand grabbing for his hair, the other digging into his shoulder like she wanted to hold him in place. Louis hummed and then Zayn’s hand was there, his fingers unsure until Eleanor let go of Louis’ shoulder to guide him, a steady stream of, “fuck fuck fuck _fuck_ ,” letting them know when they’d found the right spot, the right rhythm.

“Oh, shit, Lou--” The rest of Eleanor’s sentence disappeared. Louis didn’t have to look up to know they were kissing again. El’s thighs were starting to shake and Louis slid two fingers inside her, crooked just the way she liked, and nudged Zayn’s hand away so he could flick his tongue over her clit. Her hand tightened in his hair and he could feel her whole body go rigid as she came, breaking away from Zayn to suck in a sharp breath. Louis worked her through it gently, kissing the inside of her thighs, her hips, her belly while she went slack, loose-limbed.

It took a minute for Louis to realize that it wasn’t Eleanor gently pushing the fringe off his forehead, it was Zayn. When Louis looked up they were both watching him with dark eyes. He felt like he was at the top of a rollercoaster, waiting for the drop. It was unsettling, exhilarating. Louis had to look away.

He pushed himself up, forward, and kissed Eleanor, let that center him. 

“Think you’re a bit overdressed there, mate,” he said once he felt like he could breathe again. Eleanor hummed in agreement, reaching over to tug at the end of Zayn’s scarf. Louis couldn’t believe it was still on -- shoved high up on Zayn’s throat, askew, but still on. 

Zayn frowned. “Less dressed than you.” He was right, technically, because at least Zayn’s shirt was unbuttoned and his trousers and pants were shoved down around his hips. Louis remembered Eleanor wanking him and pressed his face into her neck, sucking a mark into her skin until she was squirming and he could feel his own flush fading.

“So I win, ha,” Zayn gloated even as Louis could hear him shifting, probably pulling off his clothes.

“I win,” Eleanor snorted. Louis sat up a bit. 

“Have either of you considered maybe _I’m_ the winner?” he asked, looking from one to the other.

“Yeah, bro, ‘cause the goal of tonight is to be the one wearing the most clothes.” Zayn made a face like Louis was an idiot and El laughed quietly like she agreed. Louis was about to protest but Zayn sat up and pushed Louis’ shirt up and off and chucked behind them. 

Is that better, Louis wanted to ask, but Zayn caught his chin and kissed him before Louis could open his mouth. Zayn’s stubble was rough and even now he tasted faintly of nicotine, which Louis always managed to forget about until they found themselves in this position. He tasted like Eleanor, too, like her lip gloss where it had gotten smeared around his mouth, and Louis knew he tasted like her in an entirely different way, and the thought made him harder, sent him dizzy with it.

Zayn leaned back and Louis went with him, tangling their legs together, settling most of his weight on top of Zayn. His skin was hot where they were pressed together, so warm it felt like a fever dream. Louis sighed when Eleanor skimmed her palm down his spine; her hands were so cool, no matter what. It was a welcome relief. 

Louis kissed Zayn for what felt like ages, until Zayn was rutting against his hip, making these desperate noises that were going straight to Louis’ cock. The kind that had El shifting next to them, squeezing her thighs together, dragging her nails down Louis’ back. Zayn pushed at Louis’ shoulder with his fist, trying to urge him down. It didn’t seem fair, Louis thought, that Zayn was going to get to come first, before Louis’d even taken his trousers off. 

“C’mon,” Zayn’s voice was rough, his breath hot against Louis’ cheek. He hooked his ankle around the back of Louis’ leg, holding him in place while he thrusted up. He made a dying noise when his dick slid against Louis’ abs, smearing wet. Louis ground down in counterpoint. Christ. He really wished he’d taken his pants off. He pushed up onto one arm so he could reach his flies, grateful Eleanor was there to help him because the way Zayn whined at the loss of contact made the room spin. 

Louis laughed anyway, because Zayn’s face was a sight, all flushed and frowning. Zayn’s eyes took a moment to focus when he opened them, blinking like he’d just woken up. He thumped his fist against Louis’ shoulder. 

“Christ, you’re such a --” he hissed when Louis ducked his head, pushing up the bloody scarf so he could get his mouth around one of the fading marks Perrie’d left and sucked, hard. “Shit,” Zayn breathed, and Louis laughed again.

“Impatient twat,” he said, soothing his tongue across the bruise, and then he noticed Zayn wasn’t paying attention. He was too caught up in Eleanor’s mouth, his hand twined in her hair, and Louis felt something flood in his chest. He scooted backwards, raking his nails along Zayn’s sides as he went, digging in along his hipbones until he could feel Zayn’s stomach muscles clench. Could see his hand twist in Eleanor’s hair. Zayn twisted even tighter when Louis finally touched his cock, hips bucking into the circle of Louis’ fist while Eleanor groaned and tried to move closer to him. 

Louis smiled even though no one was looking and then he slid his mouth all the way down Zayn’s prick and took pleasure in the way Zayn had to tear away from El to curse. He pressed the heel of his hand against his own dick; his groan made Zayn’s hips jerk unexpectedly. 

“Shit, sorry.” Zayn flung his hand out like he didn’t quite have full control of his limbs, clumsily patting Louis’ ear in some semblance of an apology. He rested his hand on Louis’ head tentatively, like he still wasn’t sure how hard he was allowed to grip. It only made Louis want to hold him down, suck harder, see what it would take to get a reaction.

Not much, it turned out, because Louis pinned Zayn’s hips and Zayn gasped and said, “Shit, Lou -- El -- fuck,” and Louis pulled back enough that he could swallow without leaving too much of a mess. 

“Christ,” Zayn said, when he could talk again. When Louis looked up, he could see lines of red across his chest, over his ribs, from where Eleanor had scratched her nails and that, of all things, was the final straw. Louis fisted his cock, pressing his lips together so he wouldn’t sob with relief at finally getting some friction. He was close already, probably wouldn’t take long, he could feel it building like the rising tide. 

“No, wait,” Eleanor said, catching his elbow, and Louis couldn’t stop the noise he made. She kissed his cheek. “I know, babe, but here,” she prodded his side until he rolled onto his back. He felt stupid with everything, let her move him because he couldn’t focus. He felt like he was in a fog, like he’d somehow gotten drunker, higher, _something_ , because everything was happening too fast and too slowly at the same time. Eleanor shifted, straddling him, and he had time to distantly wonder where she’d gotten a condom from before she rolled it on him. He was acutely aware of all the points they were touching, her weight on his thighs, the dull pressure where Zayn’s elbow was digging into his shoulder. 

“Alright, yeah?” Eleanor waited for Louis to nod before she sank down. Louis knew she was going to have bruises from the way he was gripping her hips, but he felt like he was literally going to come apart at the seams, suddenly more desperate to come that he’d ever been before. El moved her hips slowly like she was testing him out. Louis tipped his head back and drew in a ragged breath before he rocked his hips up, trying to match her rhythm. His pulse was rushing so loudly in his ears he was sure the others could hear it. 

“Fuck,” Lous dragged it out, felt like it was coming from the same spot at the bottom of his spine as his building orgasm. He was strung too tight, all his muscles tense with it. Next to him, Zayn was coming back to life, curling onto his side so he could get closer to them. He sloppily kissed Louis’ bicep, his shoulder, anywhere he could, and reached between Louis and Eleanor. 

“Shitting fuck,” Louis choked out when Zayn’s rings dragged along his hypersensitive skin. Zayn laughed, his mouth curving against Louis’ chest, and Louis could feel the vibrations all the way down to his toes. He laughed again when he got his thumb on Eleanor’s clit, unassisted this time, and she dug her nails into Louis’ chest as she moaned.

“Gonna match,” Zayn said, mouthing at the welts rising on Louis’ skin, and Louis had to fight not to come then. 

“El --” he knew he sounded wrecked, completely gone. 

She nodded, lip caught between her teeth, “Yeah,” and picked up the pace. Louis’ last thought was how much he loved her, how fucking glad he was that they were always on the same page, even here, even now. He wanted to tell her that, or try at least, but Zayn must’ve done something differently because El was coming again, clenching around him, and Louis was was right behind her.

He felt wrung out, like his skeleton had been removed and was going to be displayed in a biology classroom somewhere and here he was, just a sack of skin and still-raw nerve endings. It was a miracle he was able to get the condom tied off and chucked aside.

“Oi.” Zayn grimaced like he was suddenly concerned about the state of his carpet. He poked a bruise that was already blooming on Louis’ ribcage indignantly but Louis couldn’t even summon the effort to squirm away. He was made of lead, doomed to live here on the floor for all eternity.

“Yeah, alright,” Zayn rolled his eyes when Louis said it aloud. He sat up and started to pull the nearest clothes to him, “because that won’t be weird for everybody. Oh, don’t mind the naked guy, no, don’t ask, it’s a bit of a story.” He tossed a shirt to El and tugged on his pants and then sagged a bit, like the effort had sapped him of all his energy.

Louis shrugged, kissed Eleanor’s sweaty temple when she curled up next to him. “You can tell people i’m an art installation or summat.” 

“Great plan.”

“Thanks!” Louis said, knowing full well that Zayn was being a sarcastic arse and decidedly not caring. He smiled at Zayn, tilted his chin up and waited for him to duck down, dropping a kiss square on Louis’ mouth. Zayn kissed Eleanor, too, his palm resting right over Louis’ heart when he leaned over to reach her. It was the sex that had Louis’ heart still going a bit mad, mostly, but if Zayn noticed he didn’t give it away.

“You could call it _Popstar in Repose_ ,” Eleanor suggested, laughing.

Zayn cracked up. “Or _The Son of Jay_.”

“ _La Traishon des Images._ ”

“Ce n’est pas une direction.”

Louis closed his eyes, so tired that it felt like the room was dipping under him. “I hate you both,” he said, without any heat, ignoring the way it only made them both laugh harder.


End file.
